Page 54 of The Princess and the Pack

If she’ll give me just a few minutes this morning, I’m sure I can make her understand why I felt the need to lie. But what if the damage is too deep to undo?

When I’m convinced I might pull out my hair, Sloan knocks. Three quick raps before he enters without waiting to be invited in, like always. This is as much his chamber as it is mine for all I’m concerned. I’m prepared to share everything with him and Oran. They’ve been as close to me as my own brothers for most of my life.

“Good morning,” he says with bright-eyed exuberance.

Lucky fucker.

He doesn’t even need to say it. I know Ivy let him touch her last night because he looks exactly as I felt yesterday morning.

Being with her is incomparable to anything I’ve ever experienced. That she would share her body—her heart—with any of us is a wonder. I’m happy for Sloan, but so sad for me to have lost the privilege of her generosity, even briefly.

“Is it?” I ask, sighing.

Sloan comes to sit across from me, picking at my half-eaten breakfast. I can’t eat, like I can’t sleep, knowing my omega is distressed, especially when I had something to do with it.

“It will be. Have faith in our mate,” Sloan says, smiling at me like he’s seeing the world in an entirely new light, his voice suspiciously melodic.

“You seem…different. What happened last night?”

My packmate’s eyes go wide before he promptly shoves some tart into his mouth. He speaks, but it’s all nonsense around the food.That’snot fucking suspicious.

“Sloan,” I press. “What did you do?”

He regards me, guilty and grinning, as if he’s about to tell me he did something stupid like?—

“Good morning, Your Majesty…Mr. O’Malley.” My valet, Niall, calls out, startling me. I didn’t even hear him enter, though I’m not sure how.

Niall is about as broad as a barn and stands even taller than Sloan. He’s an alpha, young to hold such a prestigious position, but he’s a hard worker and as kind as they come. Plus, I’ve heard no complaints from the rest of the staff. Seems they quite like having a handsome, unbonded alpha like himself around.

He walks towards where Sloan and I are seated and collects dishes.

“Good morning, Niall. Are you well?”

“Indeed, I am, Your Majesty. Though probably not doing as well as you.” He winks.

He winks.

How fucking odd.

“Oh?” I chuckle. “Why’s that?”

Niall quirks a brow. “I served the queen breakfast not an hour ago, in Prince Aspen’s chambers.”

Wonderful. How supremely cryptic and unhelpful.

Sloan coughs, choking on whatever else he stuffed in his mouth in a panic. He appears as though he’s ready to jump out of his own skin.

I’ll get to the bottom of this now.

“And tell me, Niall, how was my wife this morning?”

A nervous laugh escapes him—he shifts his eyes between Sloan and me like he too is unsettled by whatever the hell is going on here. “Well, she was practically glowing, what with your bond mark on her neck.”

Oh, fuck’s sake almighty.

Irritation prickles between my eyes, the growing ache there due to the lack of sleep and the colossal idiocy of Sloan fucking O’Malley. If it weren’t for Niall in the room, I’d have my hands around his neck.

What on earth was he thinking?

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